Single White Farmer
by Rhianwen
Summary: As her first season in Flowerbud Village winds down, Gina starts to suspect that the most grueling part of working at the Clinic has nothing to do with the job, and everything to do with that pretty brownhaired farmer just down the way. Oddball Alex/OC.
1. Chapter 1

Single White Farmer

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Summary: As her first season in Flowerbud Village winds down, Gina is about to learn that the most gruelling part of working at the Clinic has nothing to do with the job, and everything to do with that pretty brown-haired farmer just down the way...

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Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, they don't like me. Marvelous Interactive, or something like that, does own them, and I'm pretty sure _they_ wouldn't like me either. But hey, at least I'm not making any money for this. Because seriously; even if you _could_ sell fanfiction, I'm pretty sure it would have to be good. XD

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The lake, it was generally agreed among the townsfolk, was the most beautiful place in all of Flowerbud Village.

A large body of crystal-clear water as yet untouched by pollution (and particularly so since an unsuspecting visitor had thrown a gum wrapper into the lake and promptly been chased out of town by pitchfork-and-torch-wielding villagers), over-fishing (although, one young man named Ray was working his darnedest to end this), or tourism (by far the most chilling option), the lake was surrounded on all sides by trees growing just thickly enough to give the impression of a forested area, but not so thickly that the sunlight was blotted out.

On a day that found the sun inclined to shine, such as this one, the sunlight would dance through the leaves and spill in warmly golden pools on the forest floor.

This was just such a day; the birds sang in the trees, the small woodland animals frolicked in the grass, Eve wandered randomly about and thought her thoughts, Ray celebrated the day's catch, Terry lectured him soundly on the proper conduct of an environmentally aware young person, and Gina stared in abject bewilderment.

This was not, by any means, the mild bewilderment, better described as a good-natured sort of confusion, like the time that she had found Dia in her room, in bitter tears, because she had heard from a friend of a friend of an acquaintance's brother that Gina was engaged to their third-grade science teacher, and he was planning to whisk her away to the farthest reaches of the earth and leave her, Dia, all alone. It had taken several minutes of warm hugs and kisses to assure Dia that she had absolutely no intention of running off with anyone, even if Mr. Lowry _was_ very nice, and they _did_ have some terribly interesting discussions on how to keep one's glasses clear in the rain, but eventually the clouds had cleared and all had been sunshine again, with two little girls scurrying outside to play with the cats.

Or the time in fifth grade that she had snuck into the classroom after school to steal Dia's favourite book of fairytales back from the teacher's desk, and found it – directly next to something that looked suspiciously like a riding crop. She had been so delighted by the notion that strict, composed Miss Deerling might have a soft spot for horses that she had confessed her attempted thievery and mentioned the crop, before rambling at great, starry-eyed length about all the beautiful horses at Dia's father's country estate. The ending result of this had been a red-faced Miss Deerling returning Dia's book on the strict understanding that Gina was to relate the results of her _sleuthing_ to no one. To this day, she could never understand why Miss Deerling was so angry over a student finding out that she loved animals, but suspected that it had something to do with the need to maintain her stony exterior, lest her students cease to be afraid of her and discipline go directly down the drain.

Or even like the time that she had attempted to hurl a snowball fiercely back at the runny-nosed, pimply-faced boy who had pelted one at Dia and left her soggy and shivering; somehow, she had not only entirely missed the boy, but had hit Dia's father, who had been standing _behind_ the girls. This had puzzled Gina greatly until she had recalled her terrible sense of direction, and theorized that it only made sense, then, that it affected everything she touched. The snowball, she told herself with a tiny sigh at failing to defend her best friend, had simply lost its way.

Rather, this was an all-consuming abject bewilderment well tinged with terror, the sort that any sane person might feel at being jarred from their own peaceful reverie while on a nice early-morning stroll by the lake, by a pigtailed, angrily shouting mass hurtling towards them and waving a hoe.

As this was, indeed, the first time this particular situation had occurred in Gina's life, it was correspondingly the only time she could remember being _this_ bewildered.

"Jill," she finally managed as the irate farmer blazed through the landscape. "Is—is something wrong?"

The aforementioned stopped dead in her tracks, thus managing by pure luck to not end up in the lake, and stared incredulously.

"Is something _wrong_?" she repeated, equally incredulous. "Of course something's wrong! I don't know what you think you're playing at, little missy, but if you know what's good for you, you'll stay away from my boyfriend!"

The bewilderment, sadly, did not seem to be destined to end any time soon.

"Your boyfriend?" Gina repeated slowly. "Um, I'm sorry to ask, because it really isn't any of my business, but…um, who _is_ your boyfriend? Just so I know who to stay away from, you know."

"Don't play innocent with me, you shameless hussy! You know exactly who I'm talking about – you've only spent the last month trying to _steal_ him from me!"

"Oh, dear," the bespectacled little nurse noted sadly, rubbing her temples. "I assure you, Jill, I haven't been trying to steal anyone from you. To be honest, even if I wanted to, I just don't have the time, with all the extra help the Doctor's needed lately."

Jill's already red face went purple. So, the—the—the little _scarlet woman_ was going to make fun of her, was she?

"Where the hell is he?!"

Gina sighed. She was hardly one to believe in the concept of good luck and bad luck, and talismans and charms to affect which one found its way into a situation, but it _was _certainly a little uncanny. Things like this _always_ happened when she wore her lacy yellow panties. But wear them she would; they were her favourite, after all. _So_ pretty and comfy, the soft silky light lemon yellow lace just like a fairy's gossamer tablecloth; and didn't Dia always say that nothing flattered her fair skin and the icy tones of her hair quite like delicate pastels?

Unfortunately, in this case, a little bit of attention to style would necessitate talking Jill out of whatever inexplicable snit she had worked herself into, and so, drawing a deep breath, Gina prepared herself to do just that.

"Honestly, Jill, I sympathize with your plight. I've been working at the Clinic long enough to see how easy it is to misplace something. But if you've misplaced your boyfriend, I think you could spend your time far more productively retracing your steps to see where you might have left him, than asking people who know nothing about it. Even if you had asked me a little more politely if I had seen him, I might have offered to help you look, but when you just come charging in and accusing me of stealing and hiding him myself, it doesn't exactly fill me with the desire to help you."

"So, you _did_ hide him!" Jill exclaimed, grabbing the startled young woman by the collar and giving her several rough shakes. "Where is he?! What did you do with him!?"

"I say, my dear girl, I have done absolutely nothing untoward with your gentleman friend," Gina tried to say, in spirit, if not in exact phrasing, as she had not previously hit her head and turned into a cliché.

Instead, due to the shaking and the mild strangulation, it was an effort to choke out even the incoherent squeaks she was uttering.

Releasing her victim, Jill scratched her head in befuddlement.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"I don't _know_ where your boyfriend is, Jill!" Gina choked out, gasping for air. "I don't even know _who _he is! Now, if you're quite finished, I have to hurry back to the Clinic – the doctor wanted to get started reorganizing the supply cupboards today."

"Grr!" Jill noted pleasantly, lunging again. "In one breath, you claim that you don't know where he is, and in the next, you reveal his location _and_ your evil plot to cuddle up close in a dark, confined space, under the guise of reorganization!"

Gina blinked big, sweet honeybrown eyes behind her glasses.

"Oh! The doctor is your boyfriend? That's sweet! He needs a nice girl to look after him. Well, in that case, I suppose I _do_ know where he is." She giggled. "Honestly, Jill, you know as well as I do that he hardly ever leaves the Clinic – how did you not think to look for him there before losing your head?"

"Never mind that!" Jill snapped, seizing Gina's arm and dragging her toward the path away from the lake. "Let's just get back there so you can get your _supply closet reorganization_ over with, and I can remind him who the most important woman in his life is!"

"Oh, dear," Gina lamented with a sigh as she struggled to regain her footing. "I should have listened to Dia and just spent today in bed."

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An hour later had done little to change Gina's assessment of the situation.

Ordinarily, she had no end of fun with Reorganization Day: pulling everything from the closet, polishing the sturdy pine shelves until they gleamed, and then the delight of deciding how to put everything back! Not to mention, the opportunity for a little light teasing at some of the things Alex chose to hang onto.

An old lollipop container with a few wrappers and a stick floating in the bottom; really!

But today was a different matter entirely. True to her word, Jill had been hanging about all morning, enthroned in the regrettably absent Martha's rocking chair in the corner and formulating excuses to drag the doctor off outside for something whenever he happened to accidentally brush his nurse's hand with his own, or bump her shoulder a little.

The farmer had also entertained herself by halting each of Gina's three attempts to strike up some pleasant conversation with vicious glares, and completely hijacking the doctor's several more attempts, turning them toward her own doings on the farm, those of their various neighbours, or some inside joke that he seemed to understand scarcely more than Gina, if his blank, confused expressions were any indication.

Not that it wasn't nice to spend some quality time with Jill – Gina was always thrilled at the chance to make friends with one of the local girls. But for some reason, Jill seemed so _angry_ with her!

Sighing, she took another swipe at a smudge of dust on the highest shelf, wobbling slightly on her step stool and straining to extend her reach just a little more.

"Excuse me, Doctor," she mumbled absently as her elbow bumped his head lightly.

He sent her a brief, absent smile before returning to the pots he was arranging on the third shelf down, and all was sunshine again.

Ideally, at any rate.

Before she had time to blink in bewilderment at the streak of brown and faded pink denim shooting towards her, the step stool began to wobble precariously from the sudden jarring impact of Jill shoving roughly past to haul the doctor away.

"Ack!" Gina observed sadly, attempting to reassert her sense of balance over the stool.

Despite her greatest efforts, however, the unfortunate little blue-haired maiden succeeded only in kicking the stool over entirely, and grabbed instinctively at the top shelf amid a series of frightened squeaks.

She sighed, dangling rather foolishly from the shelf.

"I think I _will_ listen to Dia next time."

Then, as her fingers began to slip free of the smooth, varnished wood, she gave a pained groan of one who knows her own fate very well, and then a dismayed little shriek.

Alex, in the process of attempting to extricate himself from a clinging farmer – he had nothing against displays of affection, but this was a _workplace_, for heaven's sakes – looked up in alarm at the thud and clatter of several tins of ointment following his little nurse down from her perch, but was quickly dragged back for another kiss.

The little blue-haired former windsock, now a disheveled heap on the ground, sighed again as a length of narrow white of bandage fluttered down to settle gently over her like a flag of surrender.

"For that matter, perhaps it's not too late to take _today_ off."

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Nevertheless, despite her decided misgivings with the concept of leaving her room, there was plenty of work to be done, and with poor Martha spending most of her time in the past few weeks at the Workshop until Woody's broken ankle healed sufficiently to hobble around on his own, the doctor would certainly be swamped if he were left to carry the responsibilities of the Clinic alone.

Therefore, Gina had finished her Monday, as well as her usual two hours of overtime, and shown up bright and early Tuesday morning.

Perhaps a little _too_ bright and early – the main room was empty, and she could hear the faint sound of a snore drifting down from the upper level.

_Oh, well_, she thought with a philosophical little shrug, gathering up an armload of files and heading toward the cabinets. _It'll give me a chance to get some work done now, just in case Jill shows up again later_.

Lost in the peaceful rhythms of familiar little tasks, Gina hummed contentedly as she filed, and completely missed the footsteps at the stairs and the jaw-popping yawn from behind her.

"Er, good morning, Gina."

She jumped slightly, and yelped in surprise, wheeling about.

"Oh! Good morning, Doctor. I'm sorry to just let myself in like this, but I didn't get through everything I'd planned to finish yesterday, so I wanted to get a head start today."

"It's no problem," he laughed good-naturedly, and then shook his head. "Yesterday was certainly a little…odd, wasn't it?"

"I just hope I didn't do something to upset Jill," Gina confessed, the little bow tying her bangs firmly back from her eyes nearly drooping.

"No, no, don't worry about that," Alex said hurriedly, hands moving rapidly as though in attempt to wave off her concerns. "Jill is a sweet girl, but sometimes she gets some strange ideas. In fact, when she first moved here," he chuckled a little guiltily, "she spent the first three months of our friendship absolutely _certain_ that Martha and I were involved. If you've ever noticed that Martha seems a little afraid of her, that would be why. I think it was the third death threat that did it."

"Oh, my," Gina lamented, eyes wide with dismayed disbelief.

He nodded his emphatic agreement with her implied assessment of the possibility of a streak of insanity running right down the middle of the little farmer's mind, and then smiled.

"Look, I'm going to make some coffee. Would you like a cup?"

Gina's eyes lit up at the mention of the blessed life-giving beverage, along with the recollection that, in her efforts to be extra-specially early today, she had completely forgotten to fix her morning travel mug.

"Yes, please."

"Cream and sugar, right?"

"Yes, a little."

"Which, in Gina-speak, means 'I like a healthy dollop or two of cream, and four teaspoons of sugar, but I'm too shy to ask for it,'" he added teasingly.

She blushed.

"I _like_ sugar."

He laughed, and gave her a swift, brotherly kiss on the forehead.

"I'll make sure to put lots in, then."

Once he had disappeared into the Clinic's little kitchenette, Gina returned to her filing, humming and filing, and humming and filing, until the door flew open with a vicious bang.

"I might have known I'd find _you_ here," Jill spat loathingly, eyes narrowed in pure hate.

"Um…I work here," Gina informed her hesitantly, wondering in the back of her mind why she'd been foolish enough to believe whoever it was that had filled her head with silly thoughts about country life being _relaxing_ and _peaceful_.

Jill gave a sarcastic laugh.

"There's always an excuse, isn't there?"

"It's more of a _job_, actually…"

"Oh, I don't doubt that you'll go to any lengths, looking for a reason to be near Alex, searching for a way to take him from me! You're obsessed!"

"_I'm_ obsessed?" Gina murmured, rubbing her eyes behind her glasses. "I'm not the one who's had to hire Jamie to do _my_ job because I'm busy stalking the neighbours."

"Don't change the subject!" Jill ordered hotly.

Gina sighed.

"Jill, you _are_ the subject! I don't know why you don't believe me when I say I'm _not_ trying to lure the doctor away from you, but this continued suspicion of yours is quite insulting. Not to mention, a little creepy."

"Oh, sure, twist the situation to be _my _fault," Jill scoffed, arms folded, surveying the distraught young lady scornfully. "You've always been twisted as a corkscrew."

"You've only known me a month!" Gina protested.

"Oh, my; what's all the shouting about in here?" a voice called from the doorway a split second before a coffee laden, boxer-clad Alex happened upon the scene.

Jill's eyes widened, and her lip curled back into a snarl.

"So, _that's_ why you came over early! To sneak a peek at my sweetie in a state of undress! C'mon, Alex, we have to get some clothes on you!"

"Jill, this really isn't necessary," Alex said pleadingly as she caught him by the arm and dragged him towards the stairs. "I can usually dress myself without a problem."

But words were of no avail, conquered by young Jill's lather of rage as swiftly as fire conquers butter.

_I should never write novels_, Gina thought sadly as this last simile floated through her mind.

Shaking her head, she went back to the filing cabinet, and was in moments absorbed once again in the task at hand, humming contentedly, the pigtailed psychotic just a staircase away in body, but miles from Gina's mind.

If only for a moment, all was peace, perfect peace.

And for only a moment it was, as Alex was generally a fairly quick dresser.

Soon enough, the couple had emerged from the second floor.

Soon enough, the little farmer was ensconced once again in Martha's rocking chair, while Gina longed piteously for the day that might see the kindly old woman returning to the Clinic to put a stop to this silliness.

Soon enough, the glower once again blazed forth from Jill's face, fixed once again on Gina.

Soon enough, the latter found herself longing, for the second day in a row, that she had taken Dia's advice more seriously.

Or at least, that Jill and the doctor could go back to _evening_ dates, instead of doing all their visiting during work hours.

Not that she begrudged them a little bit of time together whenever they could find it, but her arms _were_ getting awfully sore.

The least they could do was have their conversation somewhere that _wasn't_ directly in front of the doctor's desk, where he had just asked her to bring the big, heavy box of marble mixing dishes that was currently testing all the endurance of her scrawny little arms.

Not that the doctor seemed to have much say in the matter; she strongly suspected that genuinely expecting a man to notice anything going on around him, with a cute little brunette wound tightly around him, would lead inevitably to disappointment.

Fingers beginning to cramp slightly, Gina attempted to inch around the couple, first one way, and then the other. No use. There just wasn't a big enough gap to fit both her and the box.

Particularly when _talking_ turned to _kissing_, and _slow-dancing_ for some reason, and the couple swayed slowly back and forth, nevertheless moving quickly enough to block off each new possible way through to the desk before Gina could take advantage of it.

Unwilling to completely disrupt the lovers' tryst, Gina waited, desperation and shooting pains eventually leading her to clear her throat softly in the hopes that someone might notice, take pity on her, and relocate to let her put down her giant cardboard burden.

No such luck.

"Um, excuse me," she called hesitantly. "Can I just put this down, please?"

Jill's arms tightened around the doctor's neck, but he nevertheless managed to look in the direction of his nurse's plaintive request.

"Oh, sorry, Gina," he laughed sheepishly, detatching Jill's clinging arms and stepping back.

"Thank-you, doctor," she muttered as she slid the box onto the desk and hurried away, trying to rub the feeling back into her arms. She felt her cheeks growing red, both with embarrassment at catching her boss in the middle of a reasonably intimate display, and with anger at Jill's fiery glare once again fixed on her.

"You'll just take any excuse to come between us, won't you?" the brunette demanded, cheeks similarly red with the outrage of her alone-time with her sweetie being interrupted by the utterly unreasonable needs of his employees to get some work done. "Don't you ever get tired of this?"

"Yes," Gina sighed, rubbing her eyes behind her glasses, all the more wearily at the knowledge that she was being completely ignored by Jill, who was already dragging the doctor outside for _a little privacy_. "I am getting very, very tired of this."

But at least tomorrow was Wednesday, and Wednesday was a day off; surely Jill would leave her alone _then._

Wouldn't she?

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End Notes: Right; this was originally a one-shot that got chopped into bits because it sort of snowballed, and ended up hitting six thousand words before I was anywhere near finished. It's either going to be two or three parts. More likely three.


	2. Chapter 2

Single White Farmer - Chapter 2

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Wednesday dawned bright and beautiful, and as she lay snuggled beneath the soft chenille blankets and Egyptian cotton sheets of her bed, young Miss Dia's heart was filled likewise with the sunshine and serenity of the blithe Spring morning.

Nearly purring in contentment, she took an extra-long moment to bask in the warm sunlight spilling through the gap in the curtains to pool at the head of the bed.

Dia was entirely aware that she had become a much happier girl in general since Gina had whisked her away from her family's splendid, lonely estate last month, and had found herself smiling and laughing a good deal more in the friendly little mountain town than she had in the bustling coastal city of her birth, but even amid the sunlit days of peace and contentment, there was something _special_ about a Wednesday.

Wednesdays were Gina's day off at the Clinic, so Wednesdays were the days that most often found them exploring the mountains and the forests on Flowerbud Village's outskirts, picking berries and flowers and collecting herbs for the doctor.

Even on those days that Gina had accepted Ann's invitation for an afternoon gabfest amid the explosions that tended to occur whenever the cheerful redhead and a mechanical device came together, there was just something _comforting_ about knowing that her housemate was finding a little time to relax.

The doctor, of course, had often told Gina that if she wanted to take a break for a nice, long walk in the middle of a workday, she should go right ahead, but had quickly learned that Dia really _hadn't_ been exaggerating when she referred to the friendly little nurse as _her favourite hopeless workaholic_.

All in all, on a Wednesday, especially such a lovely one, there was absolutely nothing that could spoil Dia's mood.

Until, that is, a piercing shriek split the air.

In a fraction of an instant, Dia was up and out of bed, voluminous nightgown streaming out behind her as she ran.

"Gina?" she called sharply, sprinting down the stairs two at a time.

"I'm okay, Dia. I'm sorry for scaring you," drifted a faint reply from the little room at the end of the first floor hallway.

Pausing at the bottom of the stairs to catch her notably quick and erratic breath from the sudden burst of exercise - sadly, it seemed that her lifelong dream of the world track and field championships would remain beyond her reach - Dia shook her head, and continued on toward Gina's room in more of a _stomp_ than a _sprint_.

"What on earth was that about?" she demanded, throwing the door open.

"Jill startled me; that's all," a pillow-creased, mussy-haired, flushed Gina replied sheepishly from the comfy little feather bed that had belonged for a brief time to Dia, before her feather allergies had reasserted themselves.

"Jill?" Dia repeated, taken aback. Then, as the glowering pigtailed shape in the rocking chair next to Gina's closet caught her eye, she sighed. "I see."

"Honestly, Dia, I didn't mean to scream like that," Gina said, clutching the blankets tighter about her as the effects of cool morning air began to show clearly through her thin nightie. "I just don't often wake up with someone hovering directly above me and glaring."

"No, I don't imagine so," Dia murmured, closing her eyes briefly and sending up a quick prayer for patience. "Now do you understand why I think we should lock the door at nights?"

"Oh, Dia, I don't think that would be a good idea," the usually-bespectacled nurse objected doubtfully. "What if there was an emergency, and someone needed to get in?"

"They could knock?" Dia suggested impatiently. She turned to fix Jill with a disapproving look. "And you! What were you thinking, sneaking into Gina's room, when she sleeps with a gun under her pillow?"

"Um, no I don't," Gina piped up hesitantly.

Dia continued to glare at the farmer currently glaring at Gina.

"Maybe you should start."

"You know, Jill, I don't think you ever _told_ me why you were here so early," Gina pointed out with an exceedingly strained sort of politeness.

"Why do you think?" the hitherto rather miraculously silent brunette snorted.

"But I don't even work today!" Gina wailed. "I won't even _see_ Alex today!"

Jill gave an incredulous laugh.

"Oh-ho, it's _Alex _now, is it?"

"Unless he's had it changed recently, yes," Dia murmured. "Now, Miss Jill, it isn't that we don't _enjoy_ strangers traipsing about our bedrooms at idiotic hours of the morning, but technically, the Sanitarium is closed right now, so unless there is a medical emergency that the doctor alone cannot help you with, I am going to have to ask you to leave."

Jill hesitated, her vicious glare at Gina beginning to wilt under the force of Dia's.

"Alright, I'm going," she announced dramatically, before wheeling on Gina again. "But you watch yourself, missy."

Dia watched, utterly lost as to anything that had just happened, as Jill swept from the room.

"Why do all the crazy people seem to gravitate to you?"

Then, as the reason for the soft snickers Gina was hiding behind her hand occurred to her, in time with the recollection that she herself has been very quick to gravitate to the blue-haired girl's warm, gentle friendliness, Dia pouted.

"Oh, never mind," she huffed, pulling back the covers of the bed and climbing in. "Just hush up and scoot over; your room is _freezing_ in the morning."

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The life of young Miss Ann Copeland was hardly one that could be described as _boring_, or for that matter, even _normal._

This was, of course, much to the consternation of her father, who was not nearly as fond of the constant explosions and gentle showers of flaming debris as his beloved offspring.

The strangeness of this particular drowsy spring afternoon, though, was the sort that would come to the consternation of both father _and _daughter, and lead both to agree sadly that there must be "something in the pesticides she's using".

It started ordinarily enough, with Ann racing over to the Sanitarium to kidnap the girls for the afternoon, recalling with a sheepish laugh that all the smoking metal in the vicinity wasn't good for Dia's asthma, and proceeding to kidnap Gina only - with Dia's express permission, of course.

The two had spent a joyous hour, Ann tinkering and Gina watching in fascination, nevertheless ready to bolt for the first aid kit at a second's notice, and the latter had almost managed to forget the utter failure of her life to be peaceful as of late.

Problems just had a way of fading into unimportance in the Junk Shop, with Ann's beaming smiles and impassioned rambles and Michael's gentle common sense and quiet laughter, and by two o' clock in the afternoon, Gina's desire to pour out her current troubles to Ann and Michael had disappeared entirely.

Unfortunately, although this made for a far pleasanter start to the afternoon, it did mean that Ann and Michael were entirely unprepared for the whirlwind that would hit at exactly thirteen and a half minutes past two.

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"KHAAAAAAAAAN!!!" Jill did not howl in a blind fury as she burst through the door of the Junk Shop, although she did howl something similar enough in its place that to the end of her days, Ann would insist that _someone_ needed to lay off the Star Trek movies.

"O-oh; hello, Jill," Gina greeted with all the enthusiasm with which she had hailed her last bout of intestinal flu.

"I might have known I'd find you here," the pigtailed brunette snarled at the little blue-haired maiden. "Plotting with your diabolical redheaded conspirator to steal Alex from me!"

"Yup, you got us," Ann said cheerfully. "We're going to use my new soon-to-be patented onion chopper and containment unit to lure him to his death, like a couple of part-time mechanical geniuses and sirens."

"And then you reveal your entire diabolical plot without batting an eyelash!" Jill finished, throwing up her hands in disbelief. "Have you no shame?!"

"Nope," Ann grinned.

Michael waited for the inevitable explosion, but did not cringe. He was well used to explosions around here, albeit of a decidedly different nature. But if his Shop had survived his daughter's inquisitive streak, surely it wouldn't be shaken by the inexplicable snit of the local rancher.

"For heaven's sakes, Jill, what are you doing here?" Gina was meanwhile demanding with a level of impatience that made father and daughter stare, but only made Jill's eyes narrow in hate.

"Like you don't know! I told you I'd be watching you, didn't I?"

Gina resisted the urge to slam her head repeatedly into the closest flat surface.

"The doctor isn't even here!"

"Giving you a perfect opportunity to plot against his true love!" Jill finished, following up in a nastily smug little chuckle at having deciphered her rival's evil plot so quickly.

"I'm not plotting against you," Gina said, a breath away from a sob. "I just want you to go away!"

Jill stormed around behind the counter, glare ever deepening.

"Not until this threat to my relationship is neutralized!"

"You know, that seems kind of counterproductive to me," Ann pointed out, scratching her head.

Jill blinked.

"What?"

"Well, think about it," Ann shrugged. "When's the last time you had some nice, romantic time alone with Alex? You've obviously got a lot of time on your hands, and you _could_ be spending it with your boyfriend, but you're neglecting him, just to stalk his nurse!"

"I wouldn't have to, if she'd just stop plotting to _steal_ him!" Jill spat back.

Ann nodded, mulling this over.

"Okay. But I've gotta say, I never knew you could _steal_ a guy, unless he was pretty willing to be stolen in the first place. Maybe it's because you neglect him so much."

Michael and Gina gave simultaneous groans of horrified expectation. That observation, Gina thought despairingly, would go over, as the quaint old expression went, like a lead balloon.

"I KNEW YOU WERE WORKING WITH HER!!!" Jill capslocked, enraged.

Ann, however, regarded Jill quite calmly, arms folded.

"So, tell me, Jill; have you ever had an ex-boyfriend turn gay before?"

"Don't try to change the subject!" Jill snarled, advancing menacingly on both girls.

"Oh, no," Michael sighed, eyes flitting rapidly between the young ladies backing up in tiny increments, and the modified lampost about half a dozen of said increments away.

"You vicious, lying, manipulating little puppy-bitches!" Jill was meanwhile ranting, swinging her sickle in wide, whistling arcs.

"Oh, dear," Gina lamented. "I think Dia was right again - I really need to start carrying a gun."

_Swoosh!_

Ann and Gina leapt back in a slightly larger increment, as the wickedly sharp point of Jill's sickle tore a tiny hole in Ann's overshirt.

"Hey! That's my dad's favourite shirt!" Ann said, annoyed.

"Oh, my; that _is_ my shirt," Michael noted curiously, just as Ann's heel landed at the sloped base of the lamp post.

"Ack!" she rejoined casually, promptly losing her balance and grabbing for the front of Gina's apron without thinking, thus promptly losing Gina's balance as well.

In a tangle of arms, legs, and profanities, both girls tumbled into the lamp post, which proceeded to top, directly into the fuse box, which stood open and proudly displaying its innards in a stunning display of coincidence.

"Oh, shit on a stick!" Gina might have lamented, but as the sound was entirely swallowed up by a crazily sparking fuse box, and seconds later by a loud boom, it was never known for certain.

"What the hell was that for?!" Ann did demand, quite audibly, once the smoke began to clear sufficiently to demand anything without promptly choking. "If you _have_ to wave sharp tools around indoors, make sure there's nothing in your path! Geez! It's like you haven't learned _anything_ from working that farm of yours!"

Michael, meanwhile, withdrew a little notebook with a resigned air, and added a tick to the ever-growing tally.

That brought the total explosions since Ann's eighteenth birthday to three hundred twenty-seven.

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The next morning saw Dia, wrapped in a deep green silk housecoat decorated with tiny gold rosebuds, watching in utter bafflement as her friend crept slowly toward the front door, her customary bow replaced by a crash helmet, ordinary striped dress and apron supplemented today by thick canvas gloves and foam padding.

"Gina," she called tentatively, and sighed wearily when her best friend gave a terrified yelp and quickly drew a baseball bat from - Dia supposed - somewhere within that ridiculous getup. "Gina, you can't wear all that to the Clinic."

"I'm not leaving the building without it," Gina retorted stubbornly. "Just in case there's another explosion - those burn-marks _hurt_!"

Dia rubbed her eyes wearily.

"Jill is _not _going to do anything else to hurt you, Gina. You know that Theodore has put her on probation - if anything else happens, he might reposess her ranch."

"Only until the town realizes that they can't get along without her," Gina moaned into her hands, dropping heavily to a nearby chair. "When they start to miss the reduced prices on her milk and eggs and vegetables, and complain about paying Jamie's ridiculous rates again, the mayor will invite her back without a second thought. And it doesn't matter whether or not he kicks her out of the village for blowing me to little pieces - I'll still be little pieces whether she stays or goes."

Dia rubbed wide, soothing circles over Gina's foam armor. This whole thing was starting to spiral dangerously out of controlIf only Gina had carried a gun with her from their first day in Flowerbud, she could have nicked off the end of that little psychotic's pigtail, and that would have solved that.

Not to mention, the idea of Gina with a gun was inexplicably charming.

"Listen to me, Gina. No, don't be a turtle!" she added, annoyed, as Gina began to shrink inside her padding. "You're not going to be little pieces, because this girl's harrassment is ending right now. Come on," she concluded, siezing her friend's arm and hauling her towards the door. "We're going to see the doctor, and tell him what's been going on."

Amid a series of frantic little yelps, Gina dug the heels of her heavy-duty steel-toed workboots into the floor, and Dia, who had once become winded from carrying a bowl of fruit from the kitchen to the dining room table, found herself quite outclassed.

She shook her head resignedly. Trickery it would be, then.

"Gina, look!" she gasped, pointing at a spot on the wall over her friend's shoulder. "It's Jill!"

With a terrified shriek, and not even a glance in the indicated direction, Gina bolted from the Sanitarium. Dia permitted herself a quick, smug little grin, and then trotted out after her.

"Thank-you. Now that we're outside, and Jill isn't currently attacking you, do you think you'd like to try for the Clinic?"

"No," Gina whimpered sadly, nevertheless wandering in that direction. "In fact, I've been thinking about giving up my work at the Clinic."

"Absolutely not!" Dia barked. "I know how much you love your job, and there is _no way_ I'm just going to sit by and watch you give up something you love, just because of some insecure pigtailed psychotic!"

A sigh echoed from inside Gina's helmet.

"You're right, Dia. I've been a horrible coward about all of this. From now on, no matter what Jill does, I'll just go about my business, and keep doing my work, until she sees that I don't mean her any harm. There is nothing she can do to weaken my resolve!"

"You again!" a chillingly familiar voice exclaimed from behind them. "What are your plans for today, you little hussy?"

Gina, still in her dramatic pose from her heartfelt proclamation of seconds ago, felt herself begin to crumble.

"I'm suddenly not feeling very well," she squeaked sadly, and both Dia and Jill watched, Dia startled and alarmed, Jill startled and disgusted, as she stumbled over to a nearby bush, struggled frantically to remove her helmet, and promptly experienced a revisitation from her breakfast.

"That's gross," Jill pointed out helpfully.

"Alright, Gina, go home," Dia sighed in defeat. "I'll go tell the doctor that you won't be in today."

"Thank-you, Dia," Gina croaked, staggering weakly back toward the Sanitarium.

The petite dark-haired girl rolled her eyes as Jill, entirely satisfied with a job well done, started back towards her farm.

"Why do I get the feeling that this is only going to get worse?"

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Perhaps there was a history of psychic ability in Dia's family line, a heightened level of insight and precognition that had made them objects of admiration and wonder for generations on end. 

But if there was, Dia reflected complacently Thursday evening, it certainly wasn't very good.

Once she had returned from the Sanitarium, the rest of the day had passed in perfect peace and harmony. Free from her terror of being turned into little bits by an angry farmer, Gina had been a delightful companion.

Particularly once she'd almost magically gotten over her nausea and bustled off to make some of Dia's favourite chocolate chip and walnut cookies.

As long as she was at home, after all, she might as well do something useful.

Things had gotten a little scary when Jill had decided to camp outside the Sanitarium door, just to _make sure_ that Gina wasn't sneaking out to see Alex, but the girl had proven that she was more or less content to _stay_ outside, and thus out of their way.

At least, until her plaintive request for food at approximately three-thirty that afternoon.

Dia, for her own part, would have been quite happy to let the girl either go home or starve, but Gina had, shaking her head at her own stupidity even as she did it, assembled a little plate loaded with cheese sandwiches, some delicious marinated vegetables, and a few of the cookies.

"Thanks," Jill spat dramatically, holding out the emptied plate, when Gina hurried over to the door in response to the brisk little tap. "You make a damn good chocolate chippie, you manipulative, homewrecking whore."

"You should try her peanut butter cookies," Dia put in mildly, inwardly cackling wickedly, from across the Sanitarium's main room. "The doctor _really_ likes them."

"Dia!" Gina exclaimed reproachfully as Jill sputtered on the doorstep. "That's not the way to help!"

"No," Dia grinned, "but it's fun."

Then, as a swirl of silky brown pigtail caught her attention, Gina turned back to Jill.

"Um...you're going, then?"

"You bet your ass I'm going!" Jill snarled. "I'm going home to perfect the art of the peanut butter cookie! Fight fire with fire, and cookie with cookie! You and your evil plot will not prevail!"

"Jill, wait! Dia was only...kidding," Gina finished with a sigh as the door slammed shut in her face. "Oh, well. Maybe doing a little baking will calm her down."

"And even if it doesn't," Dia continued indifferently, starting upstairs, a fresh pot of tea and two pretty vine-patterend teacups in her hands, "at least she's gone."

In spite of herself, Gina smiled, much comforted, and hurried up the stairs after Dia and the tempting aroma of jasmine tea.

-------------------------------------------------------

And so had the evening gone, sipping tea and sharing the relaxed, easy chatter that put roses of contentment in their cheeks and a lively sparkle in their eyes, and thus had Gina gone to bed in a good mood for the first time that week.

And thus had Dia's sense of foreboding, every second expecting the worst, begun to fade.

And then, as a storm that looms on the horizon, unnoticed by the rollicking crew of a tiny but spirited vessel; as an armed sniper in a clock tower watches the carefree lives of those below and bides his time; as a deadly virus swims happily away in its Petri dish, just waiting for the clod that would tip it over and unlease a calamit; as a meteor hurtles swiftly and relentlessly towards an unsuspecting Earth; as insanity descends upon the mind of an author and sends her spiralling downward into far-fetched and ridiculous similies; had come Friday.

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End Notes: Hee! Okay, I apologize sincerely for that rambling, sprawling last line. It was just irresistible. In the way that--okay, I'll stop. XD


	3. Chapter 3

Single White Farmer - Chapter 3

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From their very first meeting, Gina had regarded Alex as very nearly the nicest man she had ever met.

Of course, her Papa, a gentle, quiet, sensitive artist who had loved her dearly as both a daughter and a connection to the wife he had lost in childbirth (himself long since dead), would always fill the top spot; her grandfather, a friendly and congenial soul with a soft spot for children in general and Gina in particular (also long since dead), a close second; Dia's grandfather, a gruff, austere, yet infinitely compassionate gentleman (_also _long since dead - Gina had often thought it a shame that all the nicest people in the world seemed to end up that way), a third.

But even among these titans of kindness and compassion, with each passing day of their acquaintance, Gina was more and more wont to number Alex among them, perhaps the adored older brother that she had never had.

Therefore, when she turned from the counter and the herbal ointments she had been mixing to soothe her conscience regarding the undeniable fact that she was not, in fact, at work, only to find that same young man behind her, dark eyes warm with concern, she reacted in the most natural way possible.

"STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

Dia, who had heard the front door opening, assumed the visitor to be Jill, thrown on a robe and proceeded to stomp downstairs to dispose of the problem _her_ way, stared. Compelled by sheer terror, Gina Forester had, for the first time in her life, found the capslock key.

Meanwhile, Gina had begun to edge slowly along the counter, eyes wide and panicked behind her glasses. Alex watched her fixedly, moving an inch closer for every inch she moved back. Then, as she reached the edge of the work area, she bolted. Lightning-quick reflexes honed over the years by many a would-be runaway terrified at the prospect of a blood test, the doctor made his move.

"Gina, this is ridiculous," he said sternly, catching her in a sort of backwards bear-hug to keep her in one place and still her flailing limbs.

"No, it isn't!" Gina wailed, struggling frantically.

Sighing, he hauled her over to the waiting area, dropped her on the couch, and knelt in front of her, hands firmly on her shoulders as she continued to struggle.

"It's the second day that you've phoned in sick this week. It's also the second day that you've phoned in sick since you started. You know that I'm glad to give you time off if you're ill, but I have the strangest feeling that your health isn't in any actual danger."

"If I come near you, even if it's for work, Jill will murder me! That seems like danger to me!"

"Are you still worried about that?" Dia demanded impatiently, recovering from the shock of hearing her best friend utilize the full potential of her soft, whispery voice. She dropped to the couch next to Gina and took her hand. "You can't let her intimidate you like this! She's completely controlling your life, and it's ridiculous!"

"I'd rather let Jill control my life than have her end it with a rusty farm implement," Gina retorted weakly into Dia's shoulder.

"You don't have to worry about it anymore, Gina," Alex said firmly. "I've spoken to Jill about her behaviour, and she knows it has to stop."

"And anyway," Dia added with a soft laugh, "she's already been at this for four days. She's probably gotten tired of it. After all, no one has _that_ much free time on their hands."

"Ah, but you underestimate me!" a painfully familiar voice proclaimed grandly as its owner emerged from inside the coat closet, brandishing an axe.

"Alright, fine; almost no one," Dia grumbled, chin in her hand.

"I can _always_ make time to protect my sweetie from the vile clutches of ugly four-eyeses who would seek to spirit him away from me!" Jill growled, advancing on Gina, who had leapt from the couch, scrambled over the back, and bolted for the back door at the first sight of those bone-chilling pigtails.

"Jill, how long have you been in there?" Alex asked wearily, once he had recovered from the solid kick that Gina had inadvertently delivered to his nose in her frantic effort to escape from his girlfriend.

"Long enough to know everything, darling," she replied, arms extended dramatically towards him, the romance rather robbed from the pose by the massive axe in her grip. "I know that you aren't to blame - I know that you would never leave me. You've just been tricked by this villainous harpy and her determination to claim you for her own. And for that," she finished, glaring darkly at the back door, still swinging to and fro, "she'll suffer."

As she took off, setting the door swinging more quickly, Alex scrambled to his feet, alarmed.

"Jill, wait!"

Dia sighed, chin in her hand.

"Just once, I'd like to find out what this _boring country life_ is like."

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Gina couldn't remember the last time she had run like this, although she was reasonably willing to bet that it had involved ferrets.

Incidentally, she had always found something very unsettling about ferrets. There was just something about the noises they made that all but froze her blood in her veins.

It was then that Gina came to a dead halt, struck by revelation.

_That_ was what Jill's furious ranting reminded her of so strongly: a pile of angry ferrets, all lunging for unsuspecting sock at once! And come to think of it, those pigtails _did_ look a little like ferrets, all floppy and flappy.

Unfortunately, as this revelation did, indeed, involve a dead halt, it provided ample time for Jill, also running as she had never run before (at least, since the last time she had chanced to overhear that the bespectacled temptress was lurking about her sweetie, which, come to think of it, had been just last night), to catch up.

"Oh, dear!" Gina whimpered, bolting into action again.

Her eyes darted about frantically. Just ahead was Ronald's orchard. To the left, the road leading to the Blue Sky Ranch. To the right, the path winding up into the mountains.

Gina thought quickly. She could jump the fence and try to lose her pursuer among the thickly growing fruit trees. Ronald wouldn't mind, and might even help her hide. But then, wasn't that Dan perched on the edge of the fence? Dan, with his love of pretty girls, and his corresponding belief that ugly girls like her had no business existing in the first place, we would be almost certain to turn her over to Jill.

"Hey that doesn't sound anything like me!" Dan objected, outraged and hurt. "I strongly feel that there's something beautiful about every girl, and looking for the beauty in all the world's young ladies is one of life's greatest pleasures."

His protestations were entirely ignored, as was his concluding cheesy grin, with Jill sparing little thought for anything but the red haze of rage surrounding and obscuring her brain, and Gina still busily weighing her options.

She could try to reach the ranch. Ellen would definitely help her, for she had been on the receiving end of Jill's wrath for the brief period that Jill had harboured a fondness for curly-headed blond fellows who, in turn, harboured fondnesses for sweet little short-haired rancher girls in aprons. Even Blue would deny having ever seen her, should Jill happen by in pursuit, as much as he might shake his head and grumble about the whole proceeding afterwards. And Bob, whose patience with Jill had been dwindling ever since she had begun trying to talk Gwen into divorcing him for being too ugly, might even lend a hand. Hopefully, in the form of violence. Nothing that would leave her permanently disabled, of course, but maybe a little light scarring would drive home a message or two.

But then again, if Gwen herself should happen to be around, as she often had been since the wedding, Jill would definitely find herself permanently disabled, if not even more permanently dismembered, as Gwen had long borne a severe dislike for people telling her who she should and should not like.

The mountain path it was. No matter the agony the ferret-haired psycho was putting her through, she didn't want to live with the dismemberment of her boss's girlfriend on her conscience. With her luck, Jill would probably be even more terrifying as a ghost.

Choked by panic, by the dust kicked up by her own immaculately polished little Mary Janes, and by the undeniable fact that twelve-hour work days simply didn't leave much time for a regular jogging circuit, Gina whimpered slightly as she reached the top of the third sharpish incline, only to find another behind it.

But was that not the way it was in life? Or at least, the way it was destined to be, if she spent her life fleeing from confrontation. Eventually, the trials that she would overcome in the name of avoidance would become far more gruelling than the trial she was avoiding in the first place.

Dia was right; it was no way to live. Also, it was about time to start carrying a gun and miss work once in a while. And what was the other gem of wisdom Dia had imparted to her the other day, in the blessed, enchanted time back before all of this had began? The one about baking her beautiful and talented best friend's favourite cookies and cakes more often?

The revelation that she needed more baked goods in her life was of remarkably little use right now. The one about facing up to conflict, however...

And so, enveloped by the bright, shining light of revelation, conveniently timed to the exact instant of a midmorning ray of sunlight falling across her path and dancing off the river far below, Gina came once more to a dead stop, hands clenched into fists and eyes narrowed as she turned to face her would-be attacker.

Unfortunately, this was not a unanimous decision by all those involved in the impromptu chase scene, and although Gina had indeed ceased her rapid progress forward and turned just as she reached the middle of the rope suspension bridge, Jill had not.

"Ack!" Gina lamented sadly as Jill pounced.

"Urk!" she continued in dismay as they landed heavily on the narrow wooden slats of the bridge.

"Eep!" she concluded plaintively, entirely ignoring Jill's death-grip at her collar as the bridge began to creak ominously.

Let us take a moment now to step back from the struggle of woman versus woman, and examine briefly the life of the Flowerbud Village Mountain Suspension Bridge.

It was far from an easy existence, with angry ranchers stomping across it every other day, grumbling and muttering about everything under the sun. Between Jamie and Jill, its resolve had long ago begun to chip away.

Unfortunately, by _resolve_, the chronicler means _structural integrity_. And thus, when two girls landed heavily in its very centre, the process of chipping away was at long last completed, and the fraying ropes gave out entirely.

For once united by a common thought, both girls shrieked simultaneous, terrified profanities as the bridge beneath them was, suddenly, no longer there.

Meanwhile, approximately five hundred yards away, Alex froze at the sound of his girlfriend and his nurse pursuing a mutual career in competitive cursing, and grabbed Dia's hand.

"This way!"

And so it was that the frantic pair sprinted onto the scene just in time to see the bridge flopping uselessly against the side of the opposite cliff, one badly frightened rancher clinging desperately to it, and one nurse, presumably likewise if the continuing expletives drifting back up towards them were any indication, notably absent.

"GIN_AAAAA_!" Dia shrieked amid the distant splash that followed, with a lung power that Alex would later confide to Martha that he wouldn't have believed her capable of if he hadn't hear it for himself.

At the moment, however, the young physician had other things on his mind, such as stripping off his labcoat and neatly pressed shirt and trousers, and revealing one of the lesser known Facts About Your Local Doctor.

Jill stared, at first drooling slightly as her boyfriend's clothes fell to the ground, and then nearly forgetting, in her shock, to cling to the former bridge's wooden slats as he sprang from the edge of the cliff in a flawless dive. Even Dia, who had hitherto been crouched at the edge of the cliff and begging her friend to answer her, spared him a startled glance before continuing to watch anxiously for signs of movement in the little blue and white shape bobbing limply to the surface of the water below.

Then, as Jill followed Alex's progress downwards with her gaze, a touch of vertigo began to kick in, and giving her head a quick shake to clear its spinning, she put an end to her time as a cat teaser and scrambled up the conveniently ladder-esque remnants of the bridge, to the safety of the cliff.

"You should get down there!" she called to Dia once she had caught her breath. "Don't worry about me! And tell Alex not to worry! I'll find a way to get down!"

As Dia, who had taken off down the mountain path at the first suggestion and not looked back, disappeared from view, Jill pouted.

"Geez, you send one four-eyed loser to an early grave, and everyone hates you!"

---------------------------------------------

The first thing Gina became aware of as she floated hazily back into consciousness was the rain. It was very cold, streaming down from the sky in torrents.

She wished the sky would knock it off; it was becoming a little tiresome.

But then, something odd occurred to her. It seemed that the streaming torrents were landing in icy shocks between her eyes, but _only_ between her eyes.

Was Jill behind this? Was she, Gina, to spend the rest of her days locked in the dark, dank, atmospherically eerie dungeon Jill had no doubt built beneath her house for the purpose, enduring some variety of water torture, aware of nothing but the chill of the concrete and the agony of that constant drip-drip-drip?

"No water torture!" she whimpered sadly, finally managing to get her eyes opened. She blinked, surprised, as she found herself face-to-face with Alex, silhouetted against the clear, blue, and utterly un-dungeon-like sky, a steady stream of water dripping from his bangs.

She became dimly aware of a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, just to her left, and the next instant, Alex gave an annoyed shout as he was shoved bodily out of the way to make room for the soft, warm shape now landing on top of her and hugging fiercely.

The next thing Gina became aware of, incidentally, was the strange combination between the pleasant warmth of her new human blanket, and the exceedingly unpleasant dull, itching pain in her left leg.

"Gina, I'm so sorry I didn't take Jill seriously! We should have left town as soon as she started harassing you, and I just kept telling you to ignore her, and when I saw you fall,and you weren't moving, and I thought you were dead, and--" Dia broke off in another sob, burying her face in Gina's sopping wet hair.

"It's okay, Dia, I'm fine," Gina cut in woozily, trying to decide whether to return the hug and leech as much body heat as she could, or push Dia off, both to stop the unpleasant jarring in her leg and to prevent her illness-prone best friend from ending up with a cold.

"Well, you're mostly fine," Alex corrected, picking himself up off the ground and helping her to sit up once Dia had been detached. "Although, with a fall like that, you're lucky that a broken leg is the worst of your injuries. We'll have to get you back to the Clinic and get it set, as soon as--" He stopped abruptly, his expression changing from concerned to alarmed. "Hey, where's Jill?"

"Oh, she's still up in the mountains," Dia replied impatiently, shrugging out of her little spring coat and draping it over Gina's shoulders. "Along with all of your clothes," she added, averting her eyes delicately as the full impact of her doctor in only a pair of polka-dot heart boxer shorts finally hit her.

Alex stared, incredulous.

"You just _left_ her up there, dangling from that bridge?! You didn't stop by to get someone to get her down, or--"

"You just _left_ her up there, dangling from that bridge?! You didn't stop by to get someone to get her down, or--"

"She almost killed Gina!" Dia shot back, glaring heatedly. "Why should I care what happens to her? And anyway, she climbed up the rest of the bridge, and she's fine - she's just stuck on the other side."

Muttering something mildly impolite under his breath, Alex started for the path into the mountains, only to be stopped in the act by a tremendous splash from the river.

"Hiya, babe!" Jill grinned once she had surfaced.

Back to the river in mere seconds, Alex stooped to haul the brunette from the water.

"What were you thinking?!" he demanded angrily, nevertheless pulling her into a tight embrace. "You nearly got Gina killed! You nearly got _yourself_ killed!"

Her eyes grew huge and piteous.

"I'm sorry I made you mad, sweetie."

He shook his head and swore under his breath, loosening his hold only slightly.

"We'll talk about this later. Right now, I'd like to get all of us into some dry clothes, and get Gina's broken leg set." Pushing her off gently, he knelt and gathered the cringing little nurse into his arms. "Alright; this may hurt a little, so bear with me."

"Okay," Gina agreed in a nervous squeak, tensing against the anticipation of pain.

The trek back to the Clinic was very quiet, Jill sneaking nervous glances at Alex, Alex responding with warning frowns, Dia casting murderous looks at Jill, and Gina trying her very best to avoid all eye contact.

When, at long last, they reached the big, starkly white building, Alex stopped.

"You two should head home and get some dry clothes," he told Dia and Jill.

"I don't need them," Dia replied absently, her brow wrinkling in concern as Gina's features grew tight with pain.

"Well, then, could you run to the Sanitarium and get some for Gina?" he asked gently.

And with that, Dia Gevora, the pretty green-eyed daughter of massively wealthy ship builder Alphonse Gevora, indulged and spoiled for most of her twenty-three years in place of parental contact and affection, and thus very used to giving rather than taking orders, obeyed without a question.

"Can I come back after I change?" Jill asked pleadingly, resisting the urge to make everything worse by glowering at the blue-haired hussy nestled in her sweetie's arms.

"Yes, you should; I'd like to take a look at you too," Alex replied a little tersely. "And then I'd like you to rest at the Sanitarium for the rest of the day."

Gina gave a piteous little moan.

"Hush, Gina," Alex scolded gently, pushing the door of the Clinic open with one shoulder, slipping inside, and leaving a terribly distraught little farmer in his wake.

With one last mournful look at the closed door, Jill turned and slunk down the road towards her farm.

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"And that should do it," Alex announced approximately an hour later as he wheeled Gina out to the Clinic's tiny waiting room. Stooping and withdrawing a black felt pen from his pocket, he added the finishing touch - his signature and a little smiley-face - to the plaster cast encasing Gina's leg from thigh to toes. "You can expect to stay in the cast from six to eight weeks, and then we'll see about moving you to a walking cast. In the meantime, let me know if the pain worsens, and I can see about bringing in some stronger pain killers."

Jill was up in an instant from the bench that she had hitherto been sharing with a madly fidgeting Dia.

"Well, at least she won't be able to stalk you anymore, sweetie-pie," she pointed out in a tone of great satisfaction, nudging the wheel chair out of the way and nuzzling affectionately against his shoulder.

He smiled tiredly, patting her still-damp hair lightly.

"No, I suppose she won't. And she won't need to either, because I'll be over at the Sanitarium at least once a day, checking up on her."

Jill pulled away, her face fixed in an expression of horror.

"Dammit!" she wailed. "Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit! I worked so hard, and now I'm going to lose you anyway!"

Alex stared blankly at the half-hysterical girl in front of him, his mind whirring away in vain attempt to follow her train of logic.

"Jill, slow down. What on earth makes you think you're going to lose me?"

"You work together!" Jill replied, her voice breaking on a sob. "You spend so much time together, and you respect her, and now that she's infirm, you'll get to see her fragile, vulnerable side, which will in turn bring out your nurturing side, and you'll fall gradually in love, eventually consummating the relationship after her first sponge bath, when you can resist the temptation no longer!"

Dia, who had been attempting to distract herself from this entire conversation by tracing artful patterns of flowers and vines around Gina's leg, threw down her felt pen in annoyance.

"For heaven's sake, Jill, put down the trashy romance novels, and pick up a clue!"

Jill blinked big, brown, tearwet eyes.

"Um...what?"

With an impatient sigh, Dia stood.

"Well, first of all, the doctor is a professional. He isn't in the habit of falling in love with every pretty girl who crosses his path, whether it's his nurse or his patient. Secondly, people with broken legs do _not_ have sex. Well, maybe they do, but certainly not with doctors, who know better. And thirdly," she finished, glaring warningly at everyone in the room, just for good measure, "if you think that I'm going to let some _man_ give_ my _girlfriend a sponge bath, you are sorely mistaken. That is for my eyes, and my eyes alone."

Amid the stunned silence that followed, Gina felt the cold of her impromptu dip in the icy early-spring river quickly fading as a warm blush swept over her cheeks.

"Girlfriend?" she repeated, peeking shyly up at Dia. "I'm your girlfriend?"

"No arguments," Dia said firmly. "_Someone_ needs to look after you, and you certainly don't listen to me as a friend."

"Okay," Gina replied dreamily, catching and cuddling Dia's hand. "Just making sure."

"And on the subject of sponge baths," Dia continued, moving around behind and taking the handles of Gina's wheel chair, "I think we could _both_ use a little hydrotherapy right now. Good day, Doctor."

Alex returned Dia's polite nod with a stunned gape as she wheeled her furiously blushing lady-love out the door. After a few moments to gather and rearrange his thoughts, he turned to Jill. His good-natured quip that apparently, she had never had a thing to worry about in terms of losing her boyfriend to Gina died on his lips when he noticed her expression of grim suspicion and outrage.

"I get it now - they're _both_ trying to steal you! Tempting you with lesbian kissing scenes and vague promises of a perpetual threesome...those manipulative wenches! No man can resist such wiles!"

"Um, Jill--" Alex attempted, despite knowing perfectly well that he would be completely ignored, his attempts at reasoning mercilessly trampled.

"Well, I just hope for their sake that Dia can push that wheel chair really fast, because as soon as I catch up with them, I'm going to let my fists do the talking! And let me tell ya, they've got a lot to say about this!"

Alex sighed. There was really only one thing left to do.

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Louis wandered slowly up the road from the Inn, lost in thought. He was on his way to the Moonlight Mine, which never failed to set his imagination abuzz. Perhaps he would find something worth selling, and earn the money to finish his latest project at last. Or perhaps he would find something that might be of use _in_ his latest project. Or perhaps - oh, bliss! - he might even run into Miss Ann, and get to spend the afternoon with her, digging happily away and trading stories about _both_ their latest projects!

The possibilities were endless; that was just the magic of the mines.

He had just passed the Junk Shop, finally managing to tear himself away from his rapt examination of the home of the special girl in his life, and begun to approach the Clinic, when the door was thrown open.

"Oof!" Jill noted curiously as she was deposited unceremoniously on the front step. Gathering up the remaining shreds of her dignity, she scrambled to her feet and wheeled furiously on the door, closed once more. "Well, that's just fine with me, Mister! You just go have your pervy threesomes! Those brothers at the Workshop are _way_ hotter than you anyway, so I'm just going to go have a pervy threesome of my own!"

With that, she stormed down the sunbaked down the sunbaked dirt path, kicking up a cloud behind her as she went. She caught Louis's eye.

"What?" she snarled.

"Um, nothing," he assured her quickly, continuing toward the mine at nearly a run.

Okay, so maybe some of the villagers were weird, but every town had its downside, right?

For now, this was exactly where he wanted to be.

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End Notes: And once again, the most non-sequit-ey ending I could have possibly given it without switching fandoms altogether. Oh, well. I'm still pretty proud of the conclusion. I was going to have Jill get over her insecurities and live happily ever after with Alex (while Dia and Gina enjoyed naked pillowfights galore), but this just seemed to fit better. What can I say? It's just not believable to me that the young ladies I'm basing this Jill on will ever grow the heck up and stop assigning people motives they never even remotely thought of having.


End file.
